There’s little more precious than these fleeting moments away from prying eyes.
This particular week-long celebration was only halfway through with them, and still, Alanari could sleep for another two. It wasn’t the people--or it was?
It was. Purposeless chatter, endless parties; it was all enough to make their head ache. Nobles could keep their inflated self-importance: they’d rather exist among the numberless and faceless “common folk”. Still, he’d asked, and they wouldn’t leave him to face the vipers alone.
He’s actually sitting ‘properly’ for once, tucked away in one of several libraries, even if he’s beginning to slouch.
Minutes pass as they observe from the doorway, leaning into it in a mirror of Herron’s unfocused gaze. Soon enough, he gives up all pretense of pretending to read, the book slipping through his fingers to rest on the rug, forgotten. His breaths slow, unfairly tall frame somehow folding in on itself even more, and, even more unfairly, he’s deeply asleep within seconds.
It leaves little room for more conventional arrangements, but they’ve slept in far odder places. Getting over the side of the chair takes some scrambling, as it’s level with their waist, but Alanari manages.
Their knees are against his face, but they manage.
Their neck is likely to be stiff later, and that noise he’s making is worse than a horde of wasps, but they manage. Somehow.
